Yet when it comes to word games all I can do is boil water. Language is supposed to be my well-equipped kitchen, words my fully stocked refrigerator. No one is perfect, everyone has a weakness, but I am a writer. I have a clear memory of playing with Alma and our daughter Hannah, then ten years old, and failing miserably to come up with a decent list of words. Once, when my wife Alma was in labor with our first child, to pass away the time between her contractions we played Scrabble with our birthing coach and, well, you can see where I’m going with this, can’t you?Ĭrushed, utterly crushed in Scrabble by a woman suffering through the pains of giving birth. Years ago, before I refused to participate any longer, if I played Scrabble with three other people, I came in fourth if playing with two, I came in third though if I played Scrabble one-on-one, at least I came in second. I am terrible at word games of all sorts, always have been. Roxane Gay, from “To Scratch, Claw, or Grope Clumsily or Frantically.” They got out their scoring sheets and personal tokens.
They set their cases on tables and pulled out custom turntable Scrabble boards, timers, tile bags, and racks. One woman’s case was wheeled, like a suitcase. People slowly filed in with large round cases. There Is No Crying Unless You’re Alone in the Bathroom: Roxane Gay on Competitive Scrabble